


Grande Erreur

by Neelh



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:38:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neelh/pseuds/Neelh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The song echoed out behind the barricade. From his seat next to Marius, Grantaire watched his friends; watched them smile as though they weren't all dead men granted a final night. He drank when they sang for them all to, and as they paused to drink, he began to sing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grande Erreur

The song echoed out behind the barricade. From his seat next to Marius, Grantaire watched his friends; watched them smile as though they weren't all dead men granted a final night. He drank when they sang for them all to, and as they paused to drink, he began to sing.

 

It was a twisted parody of their songs of hope and nostalgia; forcing his beliefs on the naive idealists he loved so much.

 

"Drink with me, to days gone by," he sang in his broken voice, leaning away from one of the boxes of supplies he was sat in front of. It could have been gunpowder or rifles or bayonets; Grantaire didn't know and didn't care unless it was wine. If it was any form of alcohol, he'd drink it all with the intent to drown himself in it and never return.

 

"Can it be you fear to die?" He gazed, almost unseeingly, at his friends, addressing them all from his seat before getting up and stumbling, pointing with his bottle at Courfeyrac. The brunet, curled up in between a prostitute and Combeferre, slid backwards as if he were a mouse seeing a starved tomcat. "Will the world remember you, when you fall?"

 

Spinning on his heel, he addressed Bossuet and Joly, who had been drinking together happily until the green-shirted man had opened his mouth stained with wine, dirtying the world with his loose tongue. Well done, R. You'd laugh at your _grande erreur_ if you weren't upsetting the others. He accidentally let out a small smirk anyway. "Can it be your death means nothing at all?"

 

He was still mentally berating himself for his idiocy - what kind of disgusting bastard smiled as they informed their friends of the futility of their crusade, even as they began to agree with him? - until a gentle hand on his arm made him turn.

 

Enjolras.

 

The leader, the statue symbolising liberty and strength and fire, watched Grantaire with concern etched into his beautiful features. The drunk stumbled over his last few words, doing his best to look indifferent and succeeding, because he was at the best of his acting abilities in front of Enjolras. He gestured towards the blonde's chest, but was so close he ended up brushing against the red fabric of his vest.

 

"Is your life just one more life?

 

Enjolras held out his arm in an attempted hug, but Grantaire was in no mood for being given a small dose of lofty pity on his last night on earth. He tried to turn away, but the man was insistent and Grantaire was a weak-willed, love-addled fool.

 

He flung his arm around Enjolras's neck, his other hand still holding a half-full bottle of wine. The blonde was not the world's best hugger, but he was a source of warmth and security. His arms held Grantaire close to his chest, and he patted the drunk's back every so often.

 

"Grantaire," he murmured as the others began to sing again in an attempt to forget the dismal truth they had been told. "Oh, Grantaire, what I would give to prove you wrong. But…" He hesitated, and Grantaire's breath hitched. "But I fear you may be right. I so desperately wanted to win; I wanted to build a world for us all; for us both. Grantaire, I wish I could have been able to love you as you deserved."

 

Grantaire pulled away, a flurry of emotions mixing in his guts. He kept his hand positioned on the red vest, before placing his other hand on Enjolras's shoulder and turning around to sit on the boxes he was previously leaning on. Marius was still sitting where he had been left, staring into the distance.

 

He patted the black-haired boy's leg, still gazing after Enjolras as he turned around to talk to Courfeyrac.

 

"Do I care if I should die, now she goes across the sea?"

 

That was probably a mistake. Marius saw his Cosette like Enjolras saw the nation of France. Like Eponine, Grantaire longed for an untouchable man from afar, though also like Eponine, the men had deigned enough pity on their love-struck souls that they tried to make their deaths as sweet as possible.

 

"Life without Cosette means nothing at all," Marius sighed to him.

 

"I'll come back later," Grantaire muttered, patting the fool's shoulder and leaving Marius to sing to himself.

 

He left with thoughts of gold hair and blue, blazing eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the London 2011 Cast version.
> 
> *can you feel the love tonight playing in the distance*


End file.
